


Sleight Of Heart

by QuinnyBee



Category: Gloomverse (Webcomic)
Genre: Gen, M/M, sorta-kinda spoilers for chapter 12 onward
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-15
Updated: 2017-06-15
Packaged: 2018-11-14 06:59:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11202846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuinnyBee/pseuds/QuinnyBee
Summary: Sometimes you just have to face your problems head-on. Other times, maybe it’s better to just stare at the back of their head and decide that sleep is for the weak.





	Sleight Of Heart

**Author's Note:**

> ' "I miss you," he admitted.
> 
> "I'm here," she said.
> 
> "That's when I miss you most. When you're here. When you aren't here, when you're just a ghost of the past or a dream from another life, it's easier then.” '
> 
> ― Neil Gaiman, American Gods

Purple lay on his side in his tent, staring at the back Wallis's head and wondering how the towheaded menace always seemed to get him into these situations.

 

After his initial meltdown in the woods, Wallis's shock had seemed to melt away and he'd built himself back to his usual smarmy high spirits in record time. Purple had hoped to ignore Wallis's bossy nattering by not leaving his tent and re-organizing his field notes. Wallis had caught on to the ploy quickly enough, however, and just sat outside the tent and doubled his volume to make sure Purple heard him. If he had any good ideas about what to do or what happened to get him here, Purple had missed it under the irritated static of _shutupshutupshutupshutup_ buzzing through his own head. 

 

By the time night fell and discussion of who would be sleeping where came up, his patience had been thoroughly exhausted. Wallis, per usual, assumed that his mere presence was reason enough for Evets to be ousted from the spare tent. Evets was ready to surrender the fight before it happened, but Purple was feeling much less welcoming. He'd informed Wallis in no uncertain terms that if he had an issue camping al fresco he was more than welcome to find himself somewhere to sleep, but Evets had been here first. Wallis had tactfully rebutted the suggestion by shoving all of Purple's newly-organized research into a heap in the corner of his tent, throwing his borrowed bedroll onto the floor, and feigning sleep. Deeply satisfying visions of dragging Wallis out of the tent and dumping him back at the bottom of the pit he'd crawled out of danced in Purple's mind even as he just crammed into the tent and resigned himself to a sleepless night.

 

He'd been staring fixedly at a single unruly lock of Wallis's hair ever since. It kept twining and springing free from the rest in the night breeze, as unconcerned with Purple's need for sleep as its master. Wallis must have been too busy or too distracted to get his hair cut again, Purple thought, and he'd tried to cover up the length with too much mousse on show night. Wallis had inherited all the goods and bads of Petunia's wild sandy curls and even a little too much length made him look perpetually like he'd been dragged backwards through a hedge.  _Or had fallen out of space-time and caused a massive crater in the middle of the woods,_ Purple thought ruefully. He realized he'd unconsciously reached out to play with the loose curl as it began to darken to a wispy black in the moonlight under his touch. He let go a moment too late and watched as the color seeped outward from root to tip. Purple glowered harder at the curl and hoped the color would fade back to normal before morning. Wallis would know what happened immediately and he was in enough of a state without adding that to the mix. 

 

Or he'd seemed like it at first, anyway, Purple corrected with a frown. For a while after he'd awoken Wallis had almost seemed like the version of himself that Purple recognized down to his bones. The Wallis who would go to war against kids twice his size for someone he'd barely met simply because it was the right thing to do and always had something disarmingly candid to say about everything, including himself. The one who had joked to Purple that they would never work out because his first love was and would always be magic but always grabbed Purple's hand too tightly and pulled him a little too fast when something new and exciting crossed their path. Who had looked at Purple like he was a miracle instead of a monster and who hadn't been afraid to kiss Purple in front of god and everyone at their high school commencement ball even though they'd both come with other people.

 

Wallis's scalp was streaking dark grey and black as Purple finger-combed the dusty tangles out of his hair. Purple sighed and rubbed his forehead hard with his free hand in the hopes it would wipe away the pinpricks of nostalgia digging their way into his brain. All of that was far in the past, and Wallis had done more than enough to ensure none of it meant anything to either of them anymore. It had been that alienating dismissal that stung most about their breakup, at least for him; after seeing so far into the universe of Wallis Gloom, to only be shown the frivolous bubbleheaded mannequin Wallis showed the rest of the world felt like running headlong into a razor-wire fence. The enforced distance made Wallis's feelings utterly clear:  _You left me, and I don't love you anymore._

 

Wallis jostled not-quite-awake from Purple's continued hair fluffing and reached one hand back to scratch at the disturbance. When his nails found the back of Purple's hand, Wallis made a garbled curious noise in the back of his throat and quested up to find Purple's fingers still buried in his hair. Before Purple could pull away, Wallis laced their fingers together and pulled Purple's arm around himself. Another worst case scenario courtesy of Wallis Gloom, Purple thought bleakly even as Wallis shuffled backward against him. Even when they'd managed to be happy there had been the looming air of living on borrowed time. Purple craved finding answers through structure and logic; Wallis was nothing but impulsivity and blind faith. Neither of them liked conceding when they were wrong. If they let this happen again there was no way they'd make it out in one piece.

 

Wallis gave a low contented snore, heedless of the crisis raging behind him. Purple let out a long, slow breath and let his body relax into defeat. He closed his fingers around Wallis's and rested his forehead against the nape of Wallis's neck, eyes closed. Regret was going to come no matter what he did now, he reasoned as the smell of ozone and spent fireworks that always clung to Wallis's skin filled his head. It could wait until morning.

 


End file.
